The Fall of Araphen
by TheGoldenSun
Summary: A short piece featuring Hector's last stand from Binding Blade.


The Fall of Araphen

The sun was high in the horizon, casting Castle Araphen in stark shadows. The marquees of Ostia, Hector, stood on the balcony. He overlooked the mountains, aiming a steely gaze in the direction of Bern. He knew that Bern was coming. It was only a matter of time.

He ran a gauntleted hand through his rough beard and sent some brief wishes of wellness towards Eliwood. The man looked dreadful the last time he saw him. Eliwood never was a particularly beefy man, but in the last few weeks he looked like he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in years.

He turned from the balcony and entered the castle. He walked down the hall with steady steps, and as he walked he looked at the guards stationed in the halls. He gave them a terse nod, and they nodded in return. The Lycia Alliance's main army was in attendance as well, surrounding the castle. Hector, along with several of the other marquees, had insisted that they form a buffer against the invading force of Bern.

"Find Serra and Matthew and tell them to meet me at my chambers." He said to one of the guards.

"Yes, my lord." The man turned and hurried away.

Hector reached his chambers without incident, and Oswin was outside the door at attention. Once inside Hector sat at his desk with a sigh. The meeting with the Alliance yesterday was not as fruitful as he had hoped. After they had heard of what happened to Sacae and Ilia, he had expected more of the marquees to take up arms in defense of Lycia.

However, there were a few marquess that wanted to surrender to Bern to avoid destruction. Hector for his part argued that Bern was not interested in avoiding destruction, pointing to the devastation of Sacae and Ilia. Even in cities that surrendered to Bern.

The marquees of Badon protested that the nation's stance against Bern had brought down destruction and urged Lycia to stand down against Bern and negotiate a peaceful occupation.

Hector snorted at the memory of that ridiculous notion. And he said as much in the meeting. He refused to let Bern conquer Elibe on a whim, and if they wanted territory in Lycia they would have to fight for every inch.

The meeting went back and forth for a while, with little progress made. A majority of the marquesses were in favor of fighting Bern, but not enough of a majority to mobilize the armies of Lycia.

The news that made the arguing intensify came this morning. Spies reported that Bern was on its way.

Most of the marquesses that were in favor of surrender departed from Araphen immediately, trying to get to their castle so they could throw open the doors to Bern upon their arrival to save their own skins.

He was not afraid of the inevitable battle, but his stomach churned all the same. Because he knew that it was more than likely that he would never see Lilina again.

He knew that Lilina was safe in Pherae. Eliwood would not let a thing happen to her, even in his weakened state. Hector felt confident enough in her safety, but he could not help but think of her regardless.

Lilina, his little girl. Who he treasured more than anybody else. After his beloved wife died, Lilina never failed to brighten each and every day. He loved her fiercely, and anybody who dared to lay so much as a finger on her, would have to deal with him. He had always prided himself on being the one to protect his daughter. But now he needed someone else. Two others.

"Lord Hector!" Serra chirped as she strode into the chambers, with Matthew trailing behind. Even as a woman pushing her thirties, she still seemed as fresh as she was in her twenties. "We came as soon as we heard the word! Just say the word and Matthew will take his post and I will take my post behind him!"

Matthew rolled his eyes but didn't bother to protest the arrangement, and he even cracked a roguish smile. Hector couldn't help but smile at their relationship. Then his smile faded. "Serra, I want you and Matthew to leave Castle Araphen."

Serra gasped, her pink hair bouncing slightly. "Lord Hector! Matthew is no coward, and he would never leave you. And if he wouldn't leave you than neither would I."

Hector frowned. "Serra, normally I would admire your loyalty, but I need you to listen to my orders."

Serra frowned. "Lord Hector, I am glad you care about my safety, but if you think that I, a lady of the highest nobility and honor, would leave her post and join some coward marquesses running from their duty just because some brigands from Bern are on their way I think you grossly misunderstand my—"

"Blast it Serra! Stop questioning my orders and just follow them for once!" Hector snapped, losing his already limited patience. Even as he spoke the words a small part of him regretted being so harsh. But he kept himself from apologizing.

Taken aback, Serra's eyes watered a bit. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she angrily turned on her heel and walked away. "Fine. I'll leave. I hope your next retainers are as loyal as I was!" She huffed. "Never followed orders, I never!" She muttered under her breath.

Matthew took a step back as Serra stormed past, and he could see she was close to tears. Part of him wanted to go and console her, but he had a job to do. "Where do you want us to go after we leave the castle?" He asked when Serra was out of earshot.

Hector sighed. "I want you two to go to Pherae after you leave the castle. Lilina is there, I want you two to take good care of her."

Matthew pressed his lips together. "Lord Hector, when do you want us to return to Ostia."

"I do not know. I am sending you two away because I feel this battle will be my last. Tell Serra after you have gone far enough away from the castle. The last thing I want is for her to try to sneak back into the castle to learn my fate, or try to save me. Or more likely, try to get you to save me."

Matthew couldn't help but smile at that. Serra had certainly matured over the years, now she would gladly volunteer people around her to do things for other people, and not just herself. If she was in a particularly good cheery mood she'd even land a hand herself. "I'll tell her when we are far from the castle, my lord. I'll tell her that you only wanted us to take care of Lilina. But I can't help but feel that you could have told her yourself."

Hector gave a small smile. "I need you two to sneak out. You and I both know Serra would be ecstatic on the way out of the castle and would probably chat to everybody on the way. I do not want Bern to get a lead that two of my house's best have left the castle before the attack."

Matthew nodded. "My lord, this may not mean a lot coming from a spy, and a thief, but it has been an honor to serve you."

"It means more than you let on Matthew. Take good care of Serra."

"Trust me, she will never let me forget." Matthew said with a smile as he turned to leave to console his wife. "Serra will miss you terribly, after I tell her. I just want you to know that she would forgive you in an instant." With that he slipped into the shadows and disappeared.

Hector sat at his desk, deep in thought. But know his heart was calm, ready for the coming battle. Because now he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his Lilina would be safe.

The Battle

The dead and dying were all around Hector as he unleashed his wrath against every soldier of Bern that dared come close to strike him. Every step was accompanied to a mighty swing of his axe, and every swing of his axe connected with deadly power. He was pure offense, forgoing any sense of defensive posture or stances.

His axe felt weightless, his strength never-ending. For what was probably the fifth time that day, he wished he had Armads. He knew he could fight Bern singlehandedly with that weapon. But it was locked away for good reason, the power it promised too much for anybody to hold for long.

His armor was forged from the strongest steel in Ostia, and it had proven its worth today. Multiple times enemies he had engaged had just enough time to swing at him before they were cut down, but their weapons always bounced off his gleaming armor. Those who had more of a survival instinct had aimed their strikes at his axe in a desperate attempt to parry and disengage. For their trouble they were killed by having their swords shoved hard by Hector's axe into their own flesh.

Those armed with lances had an even worse time against him. As if Hector had an innate advantage against them, he crushed all who stood in his way. Bern soldiers that tried to flank him met their end at the tip of Oswin's lance. Back to back, Hector and Oswin fought what felt like the entirety of Bern's army alone.

They were not alone, however. When Hector's honed battle instincts started to take over he took the chance to glance at the surrounding battlefield.

All around him were marquesses and their soldiers fighting Bern. They were attacked from one direction, so they were able to create a defensive wall at the start of the fight. But in the chaos of battle the walls were broken, and multiple smaller skirmishes were being fought in and around the castle.

A few dozen feet to his right fought the marquees of Santaruz, an expert swordsman in his own right. He fought like a lion, brave and true. By his side was his personal healer and lover, who rained down light magic on all those that dared fight her liege, and swiftly healed any wounds that struck Marquees Santaruz.

For a time, it seemed that Lycia would prevail. Until Bern's reinforcements arrived.

One moment Marquees Santacruz was fighting alongside his honor guard and lover, the next moment a wyvern landed on his guard, crushing them underfoot. The marquess's look of surprise was short-lived as the wyvern swung its mighty tail, throwing the man into a nearby wall, stunning him. The healer's eyes widened as she turned to run towards her liege to perhaps save him.

The man riding the wyvern drew a dark runic sword from its scabbard, and with a grin brandished it in her direction. A wave of magic flew from the sword towards her. The woman threw up a barrier of light magic, and the ensuing magical explosion threw her back. She staggered, and the man spurred the wyvern into action. It charged her, and before she could recover the wyvern turned at the last second, missing her by a hair. The man's sword however, did not.

As she fell dying to the ground, the wyvern made a beeline for the marquess, who had recovered enough to charge the beast with his sword drawn. A fury roared in his eyes, the thirst for vengeance.

The wyvern twisted away from the marquess' sword, and the Dragon General leaped from his mount to carve the man across the chest. He landed onto the ground in a flourish, his blonde hair flowing in the wind created by his mount's mighty wings.

The Dragon General looked across the battlefield and saw the marquess of Ostia and the legendary knight Oswin. His latest and greatest enemy yet. One of the wyvern knights landed next to him, and said, "General Narcian, we are turning the tides."

"Of course we are, did they really think they would be a match for Bern?" Narcian scoffed. "Tell the men to focus on bringing down Ostia's marquess and his guard. You can kill the knight but make sure Lycia's ruling marquess is captured alive as a prize for King Zephiel."

Hector never fought harder than he had fought in his life. Every second he lived through this battle, was a second he grasped with every fiber of his being. Every second made his chances of survival larger. The battle was a long and dark tunnel that was blood red, and the face of his daughter was on the other end.

Then he and Oswin were surrounded. Every time Hector slew a foe, two more would come to replace them. The overwhelming odds only stoked the fires of his fighting spirit, but his swings started to slow down. Despite the adrenaline rushing through his veins, fatigue crept through his body and started to turn his muscles into sand.

A sound that froze Hector's blood came from behind Hector, and he turned just in time to see Oswin collapse to the ground, his lance falling from slackened fingers.

His blood turned into lava, and he redoubled his efforts, then tripled them. But it wasn't enough. A strike to his leg landed between his armor, causing him to stagger. A blow from a hammer shattered his elbow and most of his forearm, forcing him to drop his axe. He fell to the ground, with a roar of immense pain escaping his lips.

All of a sudden the assault stopped. He looked around and saw soldiers of Bern everywhere. Bodies littered the ground, and he could not tell if anyone from Lycia's army still survived. Deprived of the sounds of war and still in shock from his mangled arm, Hector's ears were ringing.

He glanced at Oswin's body, grief unable to break the fog that fell over him. Despite his ringing ears, he heard the sharp click of boot heels striking the blood slicked floor. Expecting to see a woman commander of the Bern forces, he turned to the source of the sound, and saw Narcian.

"Hello, Hector." Narcian said, a smug grin plastered on his flawless face. "Your little army is gone. You should have followed the example of the marquesses that were bright enough to surrender to us. At least then your death would have been quicker."

Hector gritted his teeth and snarled, "I will never surrender to the mightiest of Bern, much less to the prancing dandy that serves as Bern's jester."

Narcian's face flushed with anger. "You dare—"

"Hold, Narcian."

Narcian and Hector looked to the new arrival.

Hector saw a face that he had seen many years before. Older now, and darkened by events that Hector could never know, King Zephiel had arrived to survey his latest conquest.


End file.
